Mutually assured destruction, hand unicorn (the theme colon song (song))

Music for everyone, music for others. A life against the current. No genre in music! It is too simplistic to give a genre to everything!! Music is an expression of human emotions and it is necessary to learn to understand humanity in its complexity.

I love 70's American West Coast music. It's the music that inspires me. I also like Ennio Morricone's style. I play electric, classical, acoustic and 12chords guitar. Also, Bass
Youtube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCeCBZ4l-tqzB1iYK4sdhYzw

Christiane Hommelsheim sings and plays on sound objects, Ralf Haarmann electronics and mandoline. With a central interest in loops, they create intertwined acoustic layers. Through the looper all sounds loose their corporality, they resolve within themselves, they appear and
disappear, they become soundfields, and soundshadows. Ocassionally a sentences might appear out of nowhere, and lingers unfinished in the space, like a piece of thought-furniture, that might develop within the ear of the listener before it retreats back out of focus. HAARMANNHOMMELSHEIM create poetics of absence, poetics of nothing.

I don't claim any ownership over any of this. Anyone can use any of it for any reason forever. Also I accept liability. Please don't sue me (and/or let's collaborate).

"Holy fucking shit, this shit is crazy wtf"

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Very ok"

"Actually slaps"

"Straight art"

"Noise"

At its core, the blorgpulkf is a pulsating, iridescent orb that thrums with an energy that can only be described as "the sound of a thousand bees having a rave inside a kaleidoscope." It's hypnotic, it's unsettling, and it's strangely addictive - like watching a lava lamp filled with Mountain Dew and gummy bears.

But that's just the beginning. Surrounding this pulsing heart are layers upon layers of... well, your guess is as good as mine. One moment it's a tangled web of neon tubes that hum with an eerie frequency, the next it's a churning mass of what appears to be sentient silly putty. And is that a tiny disco ball I see nestled in there? You bet your sweet bippy it is.

As for its features, the blorgpulkf is like a Swiss Army knife designed by a mad scientist with a penchant for pranks. It's got a button that releases a burst of confetti and the sound of a rubber chicken being stepped on, a lever that causes the whole thing to fold in on itself like a origami crane having an existential crisis, and a tiny compartment that dispenses a single, perfectly spherical grape every 37 hours.

But perhaps the most baffling feature of the blorgpulkf is its ability to communicate. Not with words, of course - that would be far too pedestrian. No, the blorgpulkf speaks in a language all its own, a cryptic code of flashing lights, whirring gears, and the occasional burst of atonal jazz played on what sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo.




The plorksickle. It's like someone took a fever dream, a Mad Lib, and a Dada art installation, threw 'em in a blender, and hit "puree."

Picture this: a contraption that looks like it crawled out of a Salvador Dali painting and mated with a Rube Goldberg machine. It's got a crank that sounds like a yodeling ostrich, a button that releases a puff of glitter and the scent of existential dread, and a tiny screen that just flashes the word "moist" in Wingdings.

But here's the kicker - every time you think you've figured out what it does, it changes the game. One minute it's reciting beat poetry in binary code, the next it's turning itself inside out and becoming a Klein bottle. And don't even get me started on the time it started oozing a viscous liquid that tasted like the color purple.

Is it a tool? A toy? A sentient being from another dimension that's just really, really bad at communication? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, it's the most beautifully useless thing I've ever laid eyes on.

But maybe that's the point. In a world where everything has to have a purpose, a function, a reason for being, the plorksickle is a big, fat middle finger to the very concept of sense. It's absurdity for absurdity's sake, a Zen koan in physical form.

So if you ever see me on the street, cradling this bizarre little gizmo like a newborn lovechild, don't ask me what it does. Just nod, smile, and know that you're in the presence of something truly inexplicable. Something that laughs in the face of logic and spits in the eye of reason.

Hi! I am Igor, a lefthanded guitarist from Serbia. I play and compose vintage art rock, melodic rock guitar instrumental music with high emotional depth and strong uplifting power, often ballad and sometimes virtuoso.
Hire me on airgigs.com:
https://www.airgigs.com/user/IgorLisul
Here on soundcloud I am also opened for collaboration. I'll supply you with keen and highly emotional melody, or some faster rock soloing in my vintage style, for a suitable fee, we can make a deal about the pricing, no worries.

klangmœbel label - You find us on many streaming platforms.
haarmann / hommelsheim / Igden Daledrop / Aldo Tamarind
Electronic music.


#alternative #soundtrack #downtempo #indie

Mutually assured destruction, hand unicorn (the theme colon song (song))

blorgpulkfplorksickle